


The Inevitable Conclusion of All Good Plans

by PurpleMoon3



Series: Bite Sized Bits of Fic [1]
Category: Highlander - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: But it isn't anything new, Community: comment_fic, Connor: Mentioned, Gen, Invasions are happening, Methos is OLD, Nakano: Mentioned, Offscreen Avengers, Richie Lives!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleMoon3/pseuds/PurpleMoon3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos and Richie face an Apocalypse together.  For Methos, it's just like old times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inevitable Conclusion of All Good Plans

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt:](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/472701.html#comments)
> 
> Highlander, Methos, _it feels like the world is ending_ , the child says, and the ancient replies, _not yet_.

When Methos swings his sword the ghosts of a thousand battles flash in his mind. It becomes a dance, his apprentice at his back, and despite decades of soft living and pacifistic masks, of being _just a guy_ , his muscles remember the movement. He can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all: how in their bid to _avoid_ danger, avoid other Immortals in the death-tinged air of New York (the ozone-heavy scent left behind by the Kurgan's rampage dissuaded others and had left Macleod the Elder the sole Immortal resident) they fell into a miniature war.  
  
Richie is a far better fighter than Methos would have expected, a true boon. Then again, when he overlaid Arhiman's enchantment with his own and waved the boy from his hostile father-figure Methos hadn't realized the boy had already taken -admittedly mostly through luck, and a superior sense of environment- the heads of some centuries-old immortals. Memories, power, transferred with the quickening. A few years of hard sparring to wake those memories and cement them as his own, and Richie Ryan would forever be a eighteen-year-old baby-faced death trap. _Methos'_ baby-faced death trap.  
  
Death's Horseman spins, nostalgia thick, and as illusions take hold and turn enemy energy weapons to snakes -bless that crazy japanese hermit- he cuts them down. Not anticipating anything more than a mugger or two, he'd long since run out of bullets, but swords didn't need reloading.  
  
"Brother!" The word leaves his mouth before he realizes what he's saying, but the confused smile that breaks over Richie's face is almost worth it. The boy takes the hit Methos meant to warn him about, then slides three feet as his skin bleeds and crisps from the strike before crackling with the healing energies of the quickening.  
  
Methos and his brothers once road out of the sun like gods to terrorize the pitiful humans. In the blue sky above a hole eats at reality and more of the enemy poor through, this time on armored space beasts. Methos grabs Richie's shoulder and drags them into a nearby bank where others have taken shelter, a small barrage of -arrows?- covering their retreat. Covered in ruined rags and blood -only some of it belonging to the invaders- the plain mortals shed away.   
  
Running on instinct and borrowed maturity, Richie barked orders to move tables and barricade windows while Methos climbed to survey the damage. He grappled with an Enemy, drove a dagger in the grey-skinned creature's throat (he had yet to figure out where they stored their hearts, if they had one) and claimed the bandolier of weaponry for himself. Richie soon joined him, looking from Methos to the impossible to miss hole in the sky, to the New York natives cowering like sheep. The entire building shudders as one of the beasts fins grazes the upper levels. "It feels like the world is ending."  
  
Methos hefts one of the strange weapons that remind him of a grenade. He, too, looks to the sky and blue-white portal that disgorges an endless flood of combatants. He flashes Richie a cheeky grin, and mentally maps out a route. "Not yet."


End file.
